Honey, I Shrunk the Kids from CAPER
by El Kaye
Summary: The Kids from C.A.P.E.R. find themselves contending with a mouse infestation, a shrink ray machine and two unscrupulous but well-dressed crooks in this adventure!
1. Act One

Honey, I Shrunk the Kids from C.A.P.E.R.

The secret word is: "Small"

Life was peaceful in the back room of Northeast Southweston's 927th police precinct where C.A.P.E.R. headquarters are located. It was almost noon on a Wednesday. Doc was feeding data cards into his computer in the corner. Bugs was doing some light sweeping around the office. And I had decided the file cabinets needed dusting. Seymour doesn't like it when things get too dusty . . . dust plays havoc with his sinus passages. Oh, I should explain that I'm P.T. and Seymour is my nose.

"There!" I said as I finished. "Much better. Now all Seymour has to contend with is that cologne you chose to wear today, Bugs."

"I only put on a drop!" Bugs defended himself.

"You know that any extrinsic scents can interfere with P.T.'s abilities," Doc reminded him.

"Well, it doesn't look like it will matter much today since we don't seem to be getting any cases," I pointed out.

"I hope Doomsday gets here with the lunch soon," Bugs complained. "I'm getting hungry."

"He certainly isn't missing out on anything," Doc commented. "Even the computer is bored."

"Maybe the computer would like to do some of the sweeping?" Bugs suggested.

The door opened and Sgt. Vinton entered, looking concerned. "Boys, we have a serious problem," he began.

We hopped to attention, awaiting orders.

"Don't worry, Sgt. Vinton," I assured him. "Whichever criminal needs caught, whichever ne'er-do-wells need nabbed, whichever lawbreaker needs lassoed, we can handle it! Because we are . . . "

"The Civilian Authority for the Protection of Everybody, Regardless," we recited.

"Tadaa!" sang Doc.

There was then an awkward silence.

"Um . . . Sgt. Vinton . . . would you . . . would you mind filling in since Doomsday's not back yet?" I asked.

Sgt. Vinton really looked as if he'd rather not, but quietly he murmured a "Tadaa," under his breath.

"Tadaa!" sang Bugs.

"Tadaa!" I finished, adding a nice little impromptu jazz closing.

"So what's the case?" Bugs asked excitedly.

"Mice," Sgt. Vinton stated.

"Mice?" we all asked.

"That's right, boys," Sgt. Vinton paced, his eyes scanning the corners of the room. "Mice. The police station is becoming overrun. We run a clean precinct here and mice can really bog down our otherwise smooth operation."

Doc and I exchanged a look of confusion but Bugs seemed interested in what Sgt. Vinton was saying.

"Don't you worry!" Bugs assured him. "We'll do everything we can to eliminate the pests!"

"Glad to hear it!" Sgt. Vinton patted Bugs' shoulder. "That's the spirit I like to see. Carry on, boys."

"So our case is to incarcerate mice?" I asked.

"I say eliminate them!" Bugs said enthusiastically.

"But we're not exterminators," Doc pointed out.

"Leave them to me," Bugs said. "I'll take care of them!" He started stalking around the room with his broom, poking in corners and trying to flush out anything which might be lurking unseen in the shadows.

"I didn't know you were so into blood sports, Bugs," I commented.

"At least it's something to do!" Bugs explained, poking the broom behind the water cooler. "Here, Mr. Whiskers! Come on out!"

The door opened again and Doomsday entered, carrying an extra large pizza box which he set down on the desk. "Lunch is served!" he announced, opening the box as Doc and I approached. "I got it with the works . . . mozzarella, chocolate sauce, treacle and marshmallow creme."

"Come on, Great White Hunter," I called to Bugs. "Better get some while it lasts!"

Bugs set aside his broom and joined us. We each took a piece of pizza and started eating. Except for Doomsday. We realized he had taken his slice and was moving around the room, breaking off bits and dropping them onto the floor. With every piece he dropped, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a handful of M&Ms, which he dropped as well.

We all watched with confusion as Doomsday moved from corner to corner, repeating this same action. Bugs began following closely behind Doomsday, peering around him every time he stooped down. "Hey, I just swept there," Bugs finally complained.

"Oh, sorry, Bugs," Doomsday offered. "These are for my friends."

"Well, the floor may be clean but I wouldn't say it's clean enough to eat off," Bugs countered.

"Doomsday, your friends wouldn't happen to be gray and furry, would they?" Doc asked.

"No," Doomsday answered.

"That's good," Doc sighed with relief.

"They're more of a brownish color," Doomsday corrected.

We all let out a moan. "Doomsday, you shouldn't be feeding the mice in here," Doc scolded.

"But they're hungry!" Doomsday cried.

"Sgt. Vinton was just in here complaining about the mice in the building," I explained.

"And Bugs has declared himself chief exterminator," Doc added.

Doomsday looked horrified. "Bugs! You would hurt a poor defenseless little mouse, would you?"

"If Mr. Whiskers pokes his nose out while I'm watching . . . whack!" Bugs promised, picking up the broom and slamming it down for emphasis.

"Oh, I don't believe it," Doomsday scoffed. "I know you better than that, Bugs. You couldn't hurt a fly."

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Killing mice doesn't require any charm."

"Or brains," Doc added.

"And certainly not sweetness," I continued. "It only requires brute force and a neanderthal's sensibility."

"Yeah, see?" Bugs said proudly. "I'm the perfect guy for the job!"

"Oh, I don't want to hear about it," Doomsday sighed sadly, covering his ears with his hands. He moved to the bench on the other side of the room and sat down, then consoled himself by saying, "Well, at least the mice will be able to smell you coming."

"This cologne happens to be very popular with the ladies!" Bugs insisted.

The door opened and a blonde woman came in. She was wearing a casual jumpsuit and carrying a large box with a metal and wood casing.

"Hi, I'm . . . " She stopped in mid-sentence and looked around, sniffing. "Ew, what's that smell?"

"Sewage Channel No. 5," I answered.

Bugs sighed and walked to the other side of the desk as the girl set the box down next to the television set.

"Ooh, that's a cool-looking radio!" I commented, and reached over to touch it.

"Don't touch it!" the girl cried, slapping my hand away. "It's not a radio. It's a highly secret invention."

"They usually are," Doc commented.

"This happens to be a shrink ray machine," she informed us. "I invented it myself."

"I like your choice of wood accents on the housing," I noted, leaning over to have a sniff. "Mmm, walnut?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "My name is Violet Blue and I really need your help. Someone is trying to steal my invention!"

"Someone usually is," Doc commented.

"In fact, two men followed me here," Violet said worriedly.

"What did they look like?" I asked.

"One was short and heavy, the other was tall and slim," Violet remembered.

"They usually are," Doc commented.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"No, nothing notable," Violet answered, then added, "Oh, except that they wore white suits with white bowler hats."

We looked at each other and sighed, "The Brock Boys."

"Who?" Violet asked.

"Bric and Brac Brock," Doc answered. "They're noted criminals in the city."

"Their parents were the infamous Helene and Richard Brock," I added.

"H & R Brock?" Violet asked.

"Racketeers, swindlers, thieves, arsonists and litterbugs," Bugs explained.

"Ironically they were finally put away for tax evasion," I added.

"And Bric and Brac are chips off the old Brock," Doomsday threw in.

"They're every bit the chiselers their parents were," I noted.

"I think they may have followed me here," Violet said worriedly.

"The Brocks are on our block?" Doomsday cried.

"I saw them as I was walking over here," Violet noted. "I kept my eye on them, though."

"You took stock of the Brocks on your walk to our block?" Bugs asked anxiously. "Doc!"

"We should investigate this," Doc suggested.

"Good idea," I agreed. "Doc, Doomsday and I will take our C.A.P.E.R. band radios and search around the immediate vicinity. Bugs, you stay here and guard the shrink ray machine."

"Sure thing, P.T.," Bugs agreed.

We grabbed our radios and Doc and I headed out the door. Doomsday was about to follow when he noticed Bug grabbing the handle of the broom. "Don't you dare hurt any mice while we're gone!" Doomsday warned him.

"Oh, you like animals?" Violet asked, intrigued.

"I love animals," Doomsday confirmed with a shy smile.

"I just love men who love animals," Violet sidled next to him.

"Do . . . do you want to come with me to look for the Brock Boys?" Doomsday asked. "I can introduce you to a few of the pigeons in the neighborhood."

"Oh, I'd love to!" Violet agreed, and she and Doomsday walked through the police station and met Doc and I out front.

"Okay, we'll split up and search in different directions," I suggested. "Doc, you go north. Doomsday, you go south. And I'll make a circle of the area. If anyone spots the Brock Boys, call on the C.A.P.E.R. band radios and we'll come to help. If not, we'll meet back in the C.A.P.E.R. room. Got it?"

"Got it," everyone confirmed, and we went our different directions.

Inside the C.A.P.E.R. room, Bugs was scanning the corners of the room again, searching for mice. Not seeing any, he stood by the desk and studied the shrink ray machine. It had a large red button on one side and a switch marked "Shrink / Reverse" on the front. Bugs looked from the machine to their little television set and felt bad that their poor TV looked so worn out next to this shining new contraption.

"There, there," Bugs comforted the TV. "Don't feel jealous." He patted the top of the set, which happened to turn on. "Oh, a Klinsinger Report!" Bugs noted, and he started watching.

"Is our beloved 927th police precinct deteriorating?" Klinsinger was asking seriously. "Becoming infested with underlying sabotage? Suffering from a constant and steady assault from within? This fearless reporter will tell you that the answer is an astonishing yes! What vile vermin have infiltrated the walls of our sacred city sanctuary of law and order? Mice. Yes, the police headquarters building is reportedly overrun with the diseased rodents, scurrying their way into police records and nibbling away at expensive equipment paid for with our tax dollars. We have obtained this exclusive photo of Sgt. Vinton as he attempts to address the problem." A picture flashed on the screen of Sgt. Vinton standing on top of a chair and looking terrified.

"Outrageous!" Bugs cried, slapping the top of the television to turn it off. "Those mice are making a laughing stock out of the police force!"

A small movement out of the corner of his eye caught Bugs' attention and he quickly turned to see a mouse nibbling at one of the crumbs of pizza Doomsday had laid out.

Bugs quickly snatched up the broom and carefully stalked toward the mouse. "Okay, Mr. Whiskers . . . this is it . . . "

The mouse spotted Bugs just as the broom came down. It scurried along the wall, ducking around some cola bottles which had been set aside on the floor for return. The broom swept past the bottles, knocking several of them over. The mouse then dodged behind a waste paper basket and made a mad dash for the file cabinets.

"Gotcha!" Bugs cried, swinging the broom back wildly. In his enthusiasm he lost his grip on the handle and it flew behind him, striking the red button on the side of the machine.

There was a hum, a strange flash of light, and Bugs felt very strange and disoriented. He seemed to be in a completely different place than he had been just a moment before. He looked around with confusion, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Where am I?" he wondered, gazing around at the wide open but somehow enclosed space and the odd-looking buildings in front of him. They were grayish in color and had signs at different levels. The sign on the first floor read "W - Z."

"How do you get in there?" Bugs wondered. "There are no doors or windows!" He then noticed the interesting piece of sculpture in front of the building.

"Ha, that's clever," he thought. "They made it look like an empty cola bottle."

Bugs looked behind him and could see a huge fallen tree laying on the ground in front of two tall blocks. Looking up he could make out what looked like a giant metal and wood finished radio.

"Say, that looks like . . . " Bugs finally recognized the machine on the desk and he gasped. The fallen tree wasn't a tree . . . it was the broom laying on the floor! And the blocks were the drawers of the desk!

"Oh no! That machine shrank me!" Bugs cried.

He stood in shock for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He seemed to be all right apart from the fact that he was no more than an inch tall. He looked around desperately . . . there was no telling when we would return. And even when we did come back, how would he be able to get our attention?

All of these thoughts were interrupted when he heard the noise of scrambling toenails on the cement floor behind him, which grew louder then stopped abruptly. Slowly he turned and found himself face to face with a mouse . . . only this mouse was gigantic! Standing right beside it Bugs would barely have been able to see over its shoulder!

The mouse sniffed at Bugs questioningly. Bugs took a step or two back, nervous about the twitching nose inspecting him.

"Take it easy, Mr. Whiskers," he said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't really mean all that stuff with the broom, you know."

The mouse sneezed and then gave Bugs what was unmistakably an angry look. It bared its razor-sharp incisors menacingly.

"Okay, fair enough!" Bugs cried, and he turned to run.

The mouse hesitated a moment, then ran after Bugs. Bugs ran faster, then made a desperate leap for the opening of the cola bottle. He managed to pull himself up through the hole and then tumbled down inside.

The mouse stood up on its hind paws and stuck its nose in the bottle opening, squeaking angrily. Bugs knew the mouse was too big to get inside, but he backed away from the opening anyway.

"Easy there, Mr. Whiskers," Bugs urged. "Can't we talk about this?"

The mouse began running around the bottle, trying to get at Bugs through the distorted glass. Bugs struggled to remain on his feet as the bottle rocked whenever the mouse bumped it.

The mouse circled the bottle once more, then lunged at Bugs, knocking sharply into the hard glass. The bottle started to roll and Bugs found himself being tossed around as if he were in a House of Fun barrel roll. When the bottle settled and Bugs shook the dizziness from his head, he saw the mouse looking at him through the distorted glass. He could have sworn the mouse had a mischievous look in its beady little black eyes.

"Oh come on! No!" Bugs cried.

The mouse lunged at the bottle again and again, pushing it in wide circles on the ground. Bugs found himself alternately pinned against the glass by centrifugal force and thrown about by the sudden lack of centrifugal force. "Whoooaaaa! Stop!" Bugs cried, which only seemed to egg the mouse on.

All at once the bottle clinked to a sudden stop against the wall. Bugs was slammed against the glass and collapsed in a daze. The mouse then began jumping at the bottle opening, inadvertently pushing the bottle back along the wall until it slipped between the end file cabinet and the wall.

It was at this moment Doc returned to the C.A.P.E.R. room, not having had any luck finding the Brock Boys. The first thing he noticed was that no one was in the room. The second thing he noticed was the broom laying on the floor. He set his C.A.P.E.R. band radio on the desk and reached down to pick up the broom.

"That's strange," he thought aloud. "Why did Bugs leave the shrink ray machine unguarded? He'd better not be off somewhere hunting mice instead!"

The third thing Doc noticed was a strange clinking sound coming from somewhere nearby. He turned around, leaning the broom against the desk and then he began searching for the source of the sound. Doc being as smart as he is, it didn't take him long to realize it was coming from the crack between the file cabinet and the wall.

He reached up to retrieve a flashlight from the top of one cabinet and turned it on, leaning over to peer in the narrow space. He could see a mouse jumping at a cola bottle, causing it to clink against the hard surfaces surrounding it. But he only saw this for a second, because the light scared the mouse, which clamored over the bottle and disappeared into a small crevice in the back corner. He couldn't be sure, but Doc also thought he saw a bug of some kind inside the bottle.

"They should really wash these bottles before setting them out for return," Doc sighed. "No wonder we're attracting bugs as well as mice!"

Now I may have mentioned on previous occasions how smart Doc is. But even Doc can make a mistake once in a very great while. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. Because when he set the broom against the table he did it when he was distracted and he didn't really lean it very carefully. As a result, the broom had started slipping from its upright position and fell, striking the red button on the side of the machine.

There was a hum, a strange flash of light, and Doc felt very strange and disoriented. But it didn't take him long to figure out what happened. He is very smart, after all. He was still standing in front of the file cabinet. He was still looking into the dark crack between the cabinet and the wall. Only now the dark crack was a yawning crevice, and his flashlight could barely penetrate the blackness.

"Well, this is a bit of a predicament," Doc sighed, looking around with concern.

"You can say that again," a voice replied wearily from the crevice.

Surprised, Doc ventured into the darkness until his flashlight found the cola bottle. He shone the light upward and saw Bugs hanging out of the bottle opening; his hat in his hand, glasses askew and looking decidedly sick.

"Bugs! What happened?" Doc asked needlessly. "You look green."

Bugs finished crawling out of the opening and fell to the ground, laying motionless on his back. "Let's just say Mr. Whiskers had his revenge," Bugs moaned.

"This is no time to lay around!" Doc complained. "We're in serious trouble! We have to think of a way to signal the others so they know what's happened to us."

"You do that," Bugs sighed. "You think of a way to signal the others. I'm just going to lay here until the world stops spinning."

****************************************

Meanwhile, Doomsday and Violet were strolling casually at the park, which was south of the precinct.

"I just love your pigeon friends," Violet said, hanging on to Doomsday's arm.

"They like you, too," Doomsday assured her. "Although if we'd brought bread crumbs they would have liked you more."

"You have such a way with animals," Violet sighed. "And it's so nice of you to protect me from those bad men who are after my invention."

"Oh yeah, weren't we supposed to be looking for someone?" Doomsday remembered.

"The Brock Boys," I reminded him.

Doomsday and Violet turned to see I had walked up behind them. "Have you seen them anywhere?" I asked.

"No," Doomsday assured me quickly. "I mean, I don't think so . . . "

I gave Doomsday a gentle look of reproach, then smiled. "Okay, well, I'm going to make the full circle again just to be sure. On the way back to the precinct, try to keep your mind on the task at hand, all right?"

"Yes, P.T.," Doomsday nodded.

I left them to walk back alone. I couldn't be too upset with Doomsday for forgetting his job. They did make a cute couple, after all.

"This time I won't get distracted!" Doomsday stated firmly.

"You're so dedicated to your work," Violet smiled.

Doomsday immediately melted, taking her hand in his. Then he looked confused and asked, "What were we looking for again?"

"Come on," Violet laughed, and she started leading him back to the precinct.

Little did any of us know, the Brock Boys were hidden behind some bushes not far from where I had stopped Doomsday and Violet.

"There's the girl!" Bric said eagerly.

"But she doesn't have the machine with her," Brac noted.

"Then we'll keep following her," Bric said. "And she'll lead us right to the machine!"

They both laughed with menacing glee.


	2. Act Two

"Why am _I _doing all the work?" Bugs complained.

"Because you've got the strength," Doc reminded him.

"You can't move a few M&M's?" Bugs asked. "They roll pretty easily."

"I have to tell you where to put them," Doc pointed out. "After all, it won't help us much if they don't spell out something."

Bugs looked at the arrangement of M&Ms on the floor, trying to figure this out. "How can they spell out anything but 'Mmmmmmmm?"

"We're not spelling out anything with the M's!" Doc sighed. "I'm positioning the candies to spell out SOS."

"You mean _I'm_ positioning them," Bugs reminded him.

"Technically, yes," Doc agreed. "And that green one goes right over there."

Bugs proceeded to push the green M&M into the place Doc indicated.

"It's really a shame they discontinued the red ones," Doc sighed. "Those would have come in very handy in this situation."

"There," Bugs said as he placed the green M&M. "Is that enough?"

"Almost," Doc observed. "We just need two more."

Bugs looked around, panting with exhaustion. "I don't think there are any more," he said somewhat hopefully.

"Have you looked everywhere?" Doc asked.

"I looked around the water cooler, under the bench . . . " Bugs reported.

"Did you look by Doomsday's secret entrance?" Doc asked.

"That's clear on the other side of the room!" Bugs complained.

"If we don't signal the others, they won't know what happened to us!" Doc reminded him. "Do you want to spend the rest of your life living off crumbs that Doomsday puts on the floor?"

"Okay, okay," Bugs sighed as he started his journey to the other side of the room. "I'll see what I can find."

"Get the yellow and orange ones first if you can!" Doc reminded him.

Doc watched until Bugs had passed underneath the desk and out of view. He began to go over the configuration of the M&Ms again, picturing how they looked from above to ensure their message would be clear.

Suddenly the door of the C.A.P.E.R. room opened slightly. Sgt. Vinton's face appeared, looking around a moment as he murmured, "Make a fool of me, will they? We'll show them." Sgt. Vinton pulled back a moment, then reappeared, bending low as if he was setting something down.

Doc couldn't see around the desk to know what the Sergeant was doing. He didn't see any point in screaming or yelling because he knew he would never be heard, and Sgt. Vinton wasn't looking in his direction in the slightest.

"There we go," Sgt. Vinton cooed as he stood up again. "Now get those mice!" He withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Hmm, I wonder what that was all about?" Doc hummed to himself.

Doc was about to resume his calculations with the M&Ms he saw something moving between the bottom of the desk and the top of the broom across from him. A moment later the yellow striped tabby cat came around the corner and into view, casually rubbing its neck against the corner of the desk to mark its new territory.

"Oh boy," Doc sighed, trying quickly to think. He remained perfectly still . . . to give the cat a moving target would be the worst thing he could do. He knew it was only a matter of moments before the cat spotted him.

As if on cue, the cat's green eyes spotted Doc standing among the M&Ms. Its head tilted and it moved forward to investigate.

"Think fast, Doc . . . think fast!" Doc urged himself. Finally he did the only thing he could think to do . . . he fell to the floor and remained still, pretending to be dead. After all, it was supposed to work with bears. And Doc knew that cats preferred prey that moved.

It was very difficult to remain still as the cat's head pressed low over him, it's hot breath steaming down as it sniffed over its strange find. The cat really didn't know what to make of it. It batted at Doc with its paw, pushing him slightly around the floor, but not unsheathing its claws, thank goodness. Doc continued to lay perfectly still. He could tolerate a little abuse if it meant the cat would quickly lose interest.

Suddenly the cat bounded up into the air as if startled. It spun around, claws out, swiping at the floor around it, knocking the M&Ms message in all directions. Doc opened one eye and watched as the cat's attention was completely diverted from him, but he couldn't figure out what the cat was so infatuated with.

The cat leaped straight up again, then spun in a circle as if chasing its tail. Its claws were scraping on the cement floor at it went around and around. Then the cat lost track of where it was and stood, looking dizzy.

"Doc!" Bugs' voice called from somewhere nearby.

Doc sat up and looked around. Bugs suddenly appeared behind the cat and Doc realized Bugs had been running circles around the cat in fast motion to distract it.

"I thought you were dead!" Bugs cried, the worry notable in his voice.

"Watch out!" Doc called as the cat spotted Bugs and made a lunge for him. Bugs darted to the cat's other side and stopped.

"Get between the file cabinets!" Doc called as he got up and ran to the sheltering space.

Bugs picked up an M&M and threw it with all his might. It bounced off the cat's nose, making it more frustrated. The cat leapt at Bugs, barely missing him as Bugs made a dash for the file cabinets.

Doc and Bugs both ran between the file cabinets with the cat right behind them. They stumbled over each other in their scramble to get to safety and fell to the floor. The space was full of dust bunnies and they choked amidst the fluffy grey clouds around them.

The cat's face pressed against the cabinets as it meowed with irritation. "Get back!" Doc warned, as he began backing away from the opening with Bugs struggling to follow.

The cat's paw suddenly reached into the crevice and came down, its claws extended. One claw caught the leather of one of Bugs' boot spats and Bugs suddenly felt himself being jerked back toward the opening.

"Bugs!" Doc cried, and he lunged forward to grab Bugs' hands, holding on tight.

A tug of war ensued between Doc and the cat, but Doc knew it was a losing battle. There was no way he could brace himself adequately to keep the cat from dragging Bugs back out into the open. There was only one chance . . . Doc suddenly released Bugs' hands.

"Doc!" Bugs cried as he felt himself being pulled toward the cat.

Doc quickly gathered up an armful of the dust bunnies and ran forward, holding them up and blowing as hard as he could. The dust balls flew up into the cat's face, causing the cat to sneeze and shake its head. The cat huffed angrily and its claws retracted as it pulled away from the opening and sneezed vigorously.

Doc quickly grabbed Bugs and pulled him back further into the crevice where the cat couldn't reach them. "Are you okay?" Doc asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Bugs coughed from the dust. "Thanks, Doc."

They watched as the cat continued to sneeze and paw at its face, then moved away from the opening to another part of the room.

"Of all times for Sgt. Vinton to become an animal lover!" Bugs sighed.

"Seems like a good mouser," Doc observed.

"But how are we ever going to signal the others with that cat out there?" Bugs asked.

"It's certainly a catalyst to overcome," Doc noted.

Bugs looked at Doc strangely. "Are you kidding?" Bugs asked with surprise.

"I try," Doc smiled.

"Well, this seems more like a catastrophe to me," Bugs moaned.

At that moment, Doomsday and Violet returned to the C.A.P.E.R. room.

"I wonder why Bugs isn't guarding the machine?" Doomsday wondered as he set his C.A.P.E.R. band radio on the desk

"Is it all right?" Violet asked worriedly, inspecting the machine.

"It looks okay," Doomsday assured her. Doomsday then saw the cat sitting on the bench washing its face.

"Oh, hello, kitty!" Doomsday smiled as he walked over and scratched the cat behind the ears. "What are you doing here?"

The cat meowed several times, as if complaining.

"Oh no, I completely understand," Doomsday said. He picked up the cat and carried it to the window, setting it between the bars so the cat could jump down outside. "Thanks, anyway. Bye bye!" Doomsday called after it.

"What was that about?" Violet asked.

"Sgt. Vinton put the cat in here to catch the mice, but she doesn't like our mice," Doomsday explained. "They don't play fair."

"Oh, well now isn't that just too bad?" a voice said sarcastically behind them.

Doomsday and Violet turned to see that two men wearing white suits had entered the room. "Who are you?" Doomsday asked, hurrying to Violet's side.

"I'm Bric," Bric explained.

"And I'm Brac," Brac explained.

"The Brock Boys?" Doomsday gasped. "I didn't recognize you without your white bowler hats!"

"We left them in the car!" Brac bragged. "Wasn't that clever of us? Seemed to fool the police out there, too!" He indicated the outer office.

Doc and Bugs heard the conversation and looked out from between the file cabinets. "The Brock Boys!" Doc exclaimed.

"Are you sure?" Bugs asked. "I don't recognize them without their white bowlers."

"Come on!" Doc motioned to Bugs as they hurried from their hiding place.

"Now we'll just be taking that machine," Bric announced.

"You can't take this machine!" Doomsday insisted, stepping forward to shield Violet and the machine.

"You think you can stop us?" Brac asked. "You and this scared little girl?"

"Hey, watch what you say!" Doomsday countered. "She's not a little girl! And she's not afraid of anything!"

Doc and Bugs ran into the middle of the floor, waving their arms and shouting to get Doomsday's attention. Violet happened to spot them out of the corner of her eye and then screamed.

"Mice!" she cried, clinging onto Doomsday. Doomsday stumbled back, stepping onto the handle of the broom, and he and Violet pitched backwards into the machine, hitting the red button.

There was a hum, a strange flash of light, and Doomsday and Violet felt very strange and disoriented. "What happened?" Doomsday asked.

"Oh no!" Violet cried. "We must have accidentally set off the machine!"

"Hey, look! It's a shrinking Violet!" Bugs commented as he and Doc ran toward them.

"Doc! Bugs!" Doomsday cried with surprise. "What are you doing down here?"

"More importantly, what are they doing up there?" Doc pointed.

They looked up and saw Brac Brock picking up the shrink ray machine as he and Bric Brock looked down at them, both wearing smirks of glee on their faces.

"Looks like this machine works pretty well, don't it, Brac?" Bric asked.

"Yeah, we're gonna make a fortune with it!" Brac laughed.

"You put that machine back right now!" Bugs ordered. "In the name of the law!"

"Tsk, tsk," Bric sneered, reaching down to pick up the broom. "What say we help clean up around here?"

"Don't you dare!" Doc warned, but of course there was no way of stopping them.

"Run!" Bugs warned, and they tried to get out of the way as Bric swept them all up with the broom and pushed them into the corner.

"There," Bric smiled, setting the broom against the wall and clapping his hands together with finality. "That takes care of them!"

"A clean sweep!" Brac added, and they laughed heartily as they walked out through police headquarters.

"Is everyone okay?" Doc asked as he pushed his way out from the broom's bristles.

"Violet?" Doomsday called worriedly from the spot where he was trapped in the bristles some distance above the ground. "Violet!"

"I'm okay!" Violet called, pushing her way out from within the bristles as Doc helped her.

"Those Brock Boys made fools of us!" Bugs complained, working his way from the upside down position in the bristles he had found himself.

"How will we ever get the machine back now?" Violet asked. "Without it, we'll won't be able to return to our normal sizes!"

"There's still P.T.," Doc pointed out.

Speaking of me, I was just returning to the police precinct. I hadn't seen any sign of the Brock Boys. That is until I passed a car that was pulling away from the police station with two men inside. As the car picked up speed, I just caught sight of them placing white bowlers on their heads.

"The Brock Boys!" I gasped, running after the car for a moment. I realized pretty quickly that would do no good, so I turned and ran into the police station.

Sgt. Vinton was sitting at a desk as I passed by quickly. "What's wrong, P.T.?" he asked.

I hurried into the C.A.P.E.R. room and realized at once the machine was gone. I looked around quickly and didn't see any sign of Bugs, Doomsday or Doc, but I did note that their C.A.P.E.R. band radios were all sitting on the desk. So wherever they were, I wouldn't be able to reach them.

What I unfortunately didn't notice was the four tiny figures in and around the broom in the corner desperately calling my name. "P.T.! P.T.! Down here!"

I hurried from the C.A.P.E.R. room to Sgt. Vinton's desk. "The Brock Boys stole Violet's shrink ray machine!" I informed him.

"The Brock Boys?" Sgt. Vinton scoffed. "How could the Brock Boys get in here without our noticing?"

"They weren't wearing their white bowlers," I explained.

"Those dirty cheats," Sgt. Vinton said angrily, and he picked up his telephone. "I'll issue an All Points Bulletin for them right now."

"We have to get that machine back," I said. "Do you know where Doc, Bugs and Doomsday are?"

Sgt. Vinton shook his head.

"I'll try tracking down the shrink ray machine with Seymour," I said. "He remembers distinctly what it smelled like. Walnut and chrome."

"P.T., don't go messing with the Brock Boys on your own," Sgt. Vinton warned.

"But I have to get the machine back!" I insisted. I then assured Sgt. Vinton, "I'll be careful. If the others come back, tell them to contact me on the C.A.P.E.R band."

I hurried from the station and climbed into the Big Bologna. Hopefully Seymour would be able to track down those crooks and quickly. And at that point, I wasn't even aware what was at stake!

As I was heading out after the Brock Boys, inside the C.A.P.E.R. room Doc and Violet were helping Bugs to get down from out of the broom.

"What about me?" Doomsday called down to them.

As Bugs was finally put upright on his feet, they looked up at Doomsday. He was several inches above the ground, too high for them to reach, wedged between a number of thick bristles.

"Can you work your way loose?" Doc called up.

"I can try," Doomsday said, and he began to try to work his way from between the bristles.

Violet suddenly let out with another scream.

"What was that for?" Bugs cried.

Doomsday looked down with concern, saying, "The only time I've ever heard her scream was when she thought she saw a . . . "

"Mouse!" Violet finished, pointing to the corner.

Two eyes peered out at them from between the file cabinet and the wall. Suddenly it darted at them, scurrying quickly.

"Not Mr. Whiskers again!" Bugs cried, ducking behind Violet.

They braced themselves for the mouse's assault, but at the last moment the mouse leaped above them and scurried up the broom until it reached Doomsday.

"Oh hi!" Doomsday greeted the mouse, then he called down to the others, "It's okay! This is my friend!"

"Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better," Bugs said sarcastically.

The mouse nosed his way between the bristles, giving Doomsday enough room to move more freely. The mouse suddenly bit down around the back of Doomsday's belt and lifted him up out of the bristles.

"This is very kind of you," Doomsday said. "Now just set me down next to my friends."

But suddenly the mouse ran back down the broom, dragging Doomsday with him. Without a look back, the mouse began pulling him to the dark chasm from which it had emerged.

"No, no, back there!" Doomsday said, but the mouse paid no attention, and they could just make out the mouse as it leapt over the empty cola bottle and scrambled back towards the small opening in the wall it had escaped to before.

"Doomsday!" Doc, Bugs and Violet called, and they ran after them.

"No, wait a minute!" they could hear Doomsday calling, his voice getting further and further away. "Hold it! Stop! Take me back!"

"I knew that mouse was up to no good!" Bugs said with frustration. "Now what are we going to do?"

"We have to save him!" Violet cried.

"Well, there's only one way I can see that we're going to do that," Doc stated, retrieving his flashlight from nearby and turning it on. "We're going to have to go where no man, or woman, has gone before."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," Bugs sighed.

*************************************************

I continued to follow the smells which Seymour was relating to me. As the Big Bologna moved through the city traffic I could tell we were getting closer. Finally the scent was the strongest it had been, so I pulled over to park.

"We're close, Mr. Featherstone," I said, unbuckling my seat belt and stepping into the back.

Mr. Featherstone, our radar specializing shark, popped up from his tank and uttered some unintelligible words.

"We just have to find out specifically where they are," I said. "From the smell, I would guess they're probably not indoors."

I raised the periscope and began to scan the neighborhood. At first I was disheartened, because I couldn't see any trace of anyone in white at all. Finally I focused further down where the street ended at a 'T' intersection two blocks away. Across the street I spotted the Brock Boys, standing outside of a store. One of them was holding the shrink ray machine.

"There they are!" I stated. "Standing outside that Fence Store." I thought about this. A fence store? I studied the windows of the establishment, which displayed with all manner of fences; wood fences, chain link fences, the works. I looked over the various signs hanging out front, one of which read, "We handle all your fencing needs - wink, wink."

"Hmm, what a way to front a fencing operation!" I stated. "With a fence store!"

Mr. Featherstone mumbled his concurrence.

I also noted a sign on the door which showed a clock face and read, "Back in 20 minutes."

"Undoubtedly they plan on selling the machine there," I sighed, lowering the periscope. "If only the others were here."

Mr. Featherstone made more sounds.

"I don't know where they are," I sighed. "But it would be horrible if that machine were to fall into the wrong hands! No telling what kind of unscrupulous characters hang around a place like that."

***********************************************

Things were looking black for Doc, Bugs and Violet. That's because they had finally made their way around the Coke bottle and were entering the small opening in the back corner of the room, cautiously stepping into the narrow space between the brick walls.

"Which way do we go?" Bugs asked.

Doc shined his flashlight down each of the three directional choices which spanned out from the T-bone intersection the walls created. "I think we should try going this way first," Doc suggested. "We know that these two walls end in door jams pretty quickly. And there isn't as much dust and debris this way. It stands to reason that this direction sees more traffic in general."

Slowly they made their way down the eerie corridor. Doc continuously shined the flashlight around them, searching for any sign of movement.

"You know, you really ought to design a safety catch for that shrink ray of yours," Bugs told Violet as he kept a lookout behind them, "I mean, if it hadn't been so easy to trigger, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Bugs!" Doc said sharply.

"Well, it's true!" Bugs cried defensively.

"I didn't mean you, Bugs," Doc explained, pointing to a spot ahead of them. "I meant _those_ bugs!"

In the small beam of light they could see their path was blocked by countless writhing, multi-legged shadows. Each one was about the size of a sheep to them.

"Cockroaches," Doc observed calmly. "Seems to be a colony of them."

"So Doomsday's free mouse lunches are attracting cockroaches, too?" Bugs sighed. "Now what do we do?"

"Well, we have to get past them," Doc said.

"How?" Violet asked nervously.

After a moment of silence, Bugs realized Doc was looking at him. "What?" Bugs asked.

"You're the great exterminator," Doc reminded him. "Surely you can take care of a few bugs, Bugs?"

Bugs crossed his arms in defiance. "Give me a broom and make me about five feet taller and we'll talk!"

"Please, Bugs!" Violet pleaded. "Doomsday needs our help!"

Bugs hesitated, then sighed with resignation. "But what if they try to eat me?"

"I hardly think they'll try to eat you," Doc insisted, handing Bugs the flashlight. "They only eat garbage and refuse and . . . " Doc looked uncertain. "Well, maybe they aren't hungry."

Bugs took a moment to steel himself, then began walking toward the group of huge insects. "Okay, listen up!" he said. "We've got to get through here, so you cockroaches stand aside or else!"

Much to their amazement, the cockroaches seemed to scurry aside the moment Bugs approached. Bugs turned to look back at the others and speculated, "Maybe they don't like the light? Like when you turn on a lamp in a room and the cockroaches scatter?"

"They didn't scatter when I shined the light on them before," Doc observed as he and Violet joined him.

Bugs continued to walk through the cockroaches, which moved aside en masse as soon as approached. Doc and Violet stayed close behind and could hear the cockroaches scurrying back into place as soon as they'd passed.

"You know what it is?" Doc realized as they made their way through the last of the giant insects. "It's your cologne! It must contain the same chemicals they use in cockroach repellent."

"Eau de Raid," Violet agreed. "That is what it smells like."

Bugs turned to them and gave the flashlight back to Doc as he snapped, "You know, this is starting to get insulting! I'm not going to stand for it, you know! I'll file an official complaint with the department! I'll go on strike! I'll take this to Capital Hill!"

"Oh Bugs, don't get carried away," Doc sighed.

They were surprised when Bugs suddenly rose up into the air and hung before them. Then he started to float away from them.

"You were saying?" Bugs asked.

Doc raised the flashlight beam over Bugs' shoulder and they could see the light reflect in the dark eyes of the mouse which had grabbed Bugs by his belt and was now backing away with him.

"Oh no, Doc!" Violet cried as she grabbed onto Doc's arm. "We'll be next!"

"I seriously doubt it," Doc assured her.

"Why?" Violet asked.

"Because we're not wearing belts!" Doc pointed out.

"Are you guys going to follow us or what?" Bugs called from the darkness.

"Are you still going on strike?" Doc called after him.

"No!" Bugs shouted.

"Okay, we're coming!" Doc said, and he and Violet hurried to try keep up with the mouse.


	3. Act Three

The Brock Boys were getting impatient as they awaited the fence store owner's return. Bric checked his watch, then cupped his hands to peer through the window of the shop, as if the owner might somehow materialize inside.

"What's keeping him?" Brac complained, shifting his hands under the machine, which was getting heavy.

Suddenly they heard a loud but distinctive, "Psst!"

Bric and Brac looked at one another with confusion, wondering at first if one of them had somehow made the noise. Then it repeated, the same low, insistent, "Psssst!"

They looked in the direction of the sound and saw a hand motioning for them to come around the corner of the store. They eyed each other questioningly, then Bric took the lead as they walked over.

When they rounded the corner they were surprised to find a bent old man smiling up at them. His white hair was disheveled and his white beard and mustache were also unkempt. He wore a long coat which hung down almost to his feet, which he held close to him as if he might suddenly pop it open and try to sell them something illicit.

"Psst!" the old man said again, quite unnecessarily.

"Yeah? What d'ya want?" Bric asked.

The old man looked around as if checking to see that the coast were clear, then addressed them in a thick, indecipherable accent. "You no want wait? I give you good deal, yes?"

Bric was the one to look around him now. "What do you mean, old man?"

"I give better price!" the old man smiled. "I do you good deal! Better than store!"

Brac seemed intrigued and stepped toward the old man, lowering his voice and asking, "Do you sell fences, too?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?" the old man scoffed. "I sell you white picket fence for you pretty front yard, 'ey? What? We cut through the metaphors. What you got that's hot? What you need to unload? I give you good price! See, my office . . . " He motioned to the open air of the alleyway. "No overhead!" The old man laughed a drawn wheezing laugh, then coughed.

"I don't think you could afford what we got, old man," Bric sneered.

"Hey, you think I don't know my business?" the old man asked. "You, of all people . . . the sons of the famous Brocks? Hey, I was dealing with your mama and papa when you were only a gleam in their shifty eyes. 'Ey, you got big reputation to live up to! You impress me, no? So, yes, you sell? I pay! What you got?"

Flattered by the old man's words, Bric motioned for Brac to show the machine to him.

"Ah!" the old man's eyes lit up with excitement. "Is very nice! Is very shiny! What is it?"

"It's a shrink ray machine," Bric whispered in the old man's ear.

"A shrink ray machine!" the old man exclaimed loudly. Bric and Brac both shushed him, looking around nervously.

"Keep it down!" Bric warned.

"A shrink ray machine," the old man cooed, running a hand across the top of the machine. "What you do with it?"

"You shrink things," Bric explained.

"Ah! Ah!" the old man smiled. "You shrink things!" After a pause he asked, "What for you do that?"

"Listen, old man, this machine will make you a fortune!" Bric smirked.

"Ooh, a fortune!" the old man repeated. Then after a moment he asked, "How?"

"Well, for instance, if you wanted to rob someone, you could shrink them!" Bric offered. "Then they wouldn't be able to put up a fight."

The old man was looking at the boys with questioning eyes. "You want rob someone? You shrink them? Then you make what they own shrink, too? How you rob them, then? What? You steal their teeny, tiny wallets and they're teeny, tiny watches and their teeny, tiny jewelery?"

The Brock Boys found they had no answer to this question.

"It has other uses," Bric tried to recover.

"Yeah," Brac tried to think. "Like if you want to rob a bank. You can shrink everyone in the bank!"

"And you shrink the man who can open the safe?" the old man scoffed. "How he can open the safe? And you shrink the people with the keys to cash drawers? How then you open the cash drawers?"

Bric and Brac looked confused and frustrated.

"You see, you want get more money," the old man continued. "This make you _less_ money! You want more gold? This make _less_ gold! What good is it? What can you _use_ it for?"

Bric shuffled his feet, looking down. Brac stared upwards, trying to think of an answer to the old man's question.

"You try sell me _this?" _the old man scolded. "Is useless, this machine! I cannot believe it! You steal something that's no good! Maybe you take out insides, you make nice radio! What for else is good for?"

Bric turned to Brac and slapped his arm, snapping, "This was _your_ idea!"

"Well, it sounded like a good idea at the time!" Brac sighed.

"You shame you parents! You should go on unemployment! Is no good, this machine!" the old man continued. "This machine, I no give you thin dime! Is no good! I save you humiliation in store! I would no take it even if pay me!"

The Brock Boys were utterly defeated. "That's the last time I let you talk me into wasting our time stealing something technical!" Bric complained, turning to walk away in disgust.

"Wait, Bric! I didn't . . . !" Brac began, then he shoved the machine at the old man.

"You no foist off worthless machine on me!" the old man cried, backing away. "I no pay you for useless piece of junk!"

"Just take it, old man," Brac insisted, shoving it into the old man's hands. "Make a radio out of it!" Brac turned and ran after his brother, shouting, "Hey wait! Don't be mad! How was I supposed to know it was worthless to us?"

The old man watched as the Brock Boys got into their car and drove away. He then leaned against the building and sighed. Or rather, I should say _I_ leaned against the building and sighed. I was actually pretty surprised I was able to fool them with the disguise I'd found stored in the Big Bologna. But I was certainly glad it had worked! I hurried toward the Big Bologna, determined to get the shrink ray back to C.A.P.E.R. headquarters as soon as possible.

* * *

Doc and Violet were hurrying to keep up with the mouse, who was still backing up down the narrow passageway with Bugs dangling from it mouth. "Where are you taking me, Mr. Whiskers?" Bugs was demanding to know.

"Keep talking, Bugs!" Doc called. "We're not far behind!"

Doc and Violet caught up with the mouse as it turned into an opening off the corridor. They followed it into the small space and were surprised to find light filtering in from the cracks around an electrical outlet set above them in the wall of another office.

The mouse had stopped and allowed Doc and Violet to come up beside it. They were surprised to see Doomsday standing with several mice in the space. All around him were even smaller mice, scurrying about happily.

"Doomsday!" Violet cried in relief, running to him.

"Hi, guys!" Doomsday greeted them happily.

"Are you okay?" Doc asked.

"Oh sure," Doomsday smiled. "I'm just visiting with my friends."

"Some friends!" Bugs scoffed. The mouse holding him let go and Bugs dropped roughly to the ground, landing on his backside.

"We thought that mouse had taken you against your will!" Doc pointed out.

"Oh well, he just wanted to bring me home to meet his family," Doomsday explained. "I told him you'd be worried about me, so he went to find you."

"Well, thanks a lot!" Bugs moaned, getting to his feet and rubbing his sore posterior.

The mouse squeaked loudly at Bugs, then turned its back.

"Say, what has this rodent got against me anyway?" Bugs asked Doomsday.

"You chased him with a broom and tried to squash him," Doomsday pointed out.

"Oh . . . well, I . . . " Bugs hemmed.

"And you keep calling him Mr. Whiskers," Doomsday added.

"Well, yeah, but . . . "

"His name is Bob," Doomsday explained.

"Uh . . . " Bugs sighed.

The mouse squeaked at Doomsday decidedly.

"And, well . . . he thinks you smell funny," Doomsday related gently.

"Well, it doesn't exactly smell like a bed of roses in here, you know!" Bugs noted.

Violet knelt down to pet some of the baby mice which came up to greet her. "Oh, aren't they cute?" she cooed.

"Bob said that the pizza and snacks have really helped him to feed his family," Doomsday explained.

"This is all very touching but we have a more pressing problem," Doc reminded them. "We have to let someone know what's happened to us!"

"How are we going to do that?" Bugs asked.

"We need to get back to the C.A.P.E.R. room and make ourselves known," Doc said. "If only we could get up on the desk. Then we'd have a better chance of being spotted."

Doomsday walked to Bob and they began talking to each other. After a moment of conversing, Doomsday explained, "Bob says he knows a way they could help us."

A short time later, Doomsday, Doc, Bugs and Violet were clinging desperately to the fur on the backs of four willing mice as they scurried along the passageway back to the corner opening to the C.A.P.E.R. room.

"This is more fun than riding the ponies at the petting zoo!" Doomsday laughed.

The mice blasted through the cockroach colony with no problem, then reached the opening and leapt effortlessly over the Coke bottle. Their nails clicked on the floor as they scrambled toward the desk. The mice used the phone cord dangling over the edge to help them in their ascent. It took a lot of effort for everyone to hang on to their mounts as they made the short vertical trip, but somehow they all reached the top safely.

"Wow, thanks for the ride!" Doomsday said as he dismounted his mouse. Doc and Violet's mice had also stopped beside the open pizza box and were climbing down as Bob reached the top of the desk with Bugs on his back.

"It was really sporting of you to carry Bugs, Bob," Doomsday noted.

"I guess no hard feelings, huh, Mr. Whiskers? I mean, Bob?" Bugs asked hopefully as they came to a stop on the edge of the pizza box.

Bob suddenly gave a huge buck, throwing Bugs from his back. Bugs disappeared over the edge of the pizza box out of their view. Doc, Doomsday and Violet ran to the box and peered over the edge to see Bugs sitting up in a mess of mozzarella, chocolate sauce, treacle and marshmallow creme at the end of a slice of pizza.

Bob squeaked with satisfaction.

"No, no hard feelings," Doomsday assured Bugs.

"Glad to hear it," Bugs sighed. "Now can someone help me out of this?"

Sgt. Vinton suddenly entered the room with Klinsinger following him. "You can look all you want! I'm telling you, there are no mice!" Sgt. Vinton insisted.

Both men froze at the sight of the mice on the desk. Sgt. Vinton let out a cry, screaming, "Mice!" in a high-pitched voice they didn't know he was capable of.

The mice immediately scurried from the desk and raced for the protection of the wall as Sgt. Vinton shooed and yelled at them. Klinsinger was watching this with great satisfaction.

"No mice, huh?" Klinsinger smirked. "The press is never wrong!"

It was at this moment I returned. I walked into the C.A.P.E.R. room carrying the shrink ray machine. "What's going on?" I asked, setting the machine down on the corner of the desk.

"Look!" Doc pointed to the others. "P.T. got the shrink ray machine back!"

"Yay!" Doomsday, Violet and Bugs cheered.

"Look at this!" Sgt. Vinton complained. "It's no wonder there are mice in the building when you leave food out like this!" He motioned to the open pizza box.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized. "Have you seen Doc, Doomsday and Bugs?"

"They weren't here when we came in," Klinsinger said.

"I haven't seen them for some time," Sgt. Vinton reported.

"I'm really worried about them," I sighed.

Doc had just climbed over the edge of the pizza box when I reached down to absent-mindedly pick up a piece of pizza. Of course it would happen to be the piece Bugs was sitting on!

"Bugs!" Doc cried. "Get off of there! Jump!"

"I can't!" Bugs cried as he was lifted into the air with the slice. "I'm stuck!"

Doomsday and Violet had climbed over the edge of the box and stood with Doc. Suddenly Doc yelled out, "Bananas!"

"What are you doing, Doc?" Doomsday asked. "You know we're not supposed to say that word around Bugs!"

"His hands are stuck in the pizza toppings," Doc explained. "He can't use his super-strength to get free, so we have to say the word! It's his only chance!"

Doomsday joined Doc and Violet looked at them strangely as they desperately shouted, "Bananas! Bugs, bananas! Bananas!"

"It's no use," Doc sighed. "He's too far away now! He can't hear us!"

"For all we know, they could be in terrible danger!" I continued, raising the pizza to my mouth to take a bite.

Doc, Doomsday and Violet all cringed, unable to look.

Bugs struggled desperately in the gooey pizza toppings but couldn't pull free. "No, P.T.!" he cried as he closed his eyes, unable to look. "Don't!"

I was just about to take a bite when Seymour twinged. I paused, looking around curiously. I could swear I smelled Bugs' cologne nearby. Shrugging, I opened my mouth to take a bite when Seymour registered Bugs' cologne loud and clear.

"Yes, well, it's embarrassing to know there are vermin in the precinct," Sgt. Vinton sighed. "Especially with this guy reporting it on television!"

"You could have all manner of infestations here!" Klinsinger said excitedly.

I finally looked down at the slice of pizza and gawked with amazement. "Bugs!" I cried.

"I see them!" Klinsinger shouted, reaching down to pull off one of his shoes. "Don't worry! I'll get 'em!"

I watched as Klinsinger raised his shoe above the open pizza box and spotted what he was aiming at. "No!" I gasped, reaching up to stop him from bringing the loafer down on the others.

"This is no time for sentimentality," Sgt. Vinton insisted.

"I didn't mean 'bugs' bugs . . . I meant Bugs!" I said, holding the pizza toward them to see. "Look closely!"

Sgt. Vinton and Klinsinger stared at the pizza, then down at the pizza box, leaning in close both places to look.

"Well, I'll be darned," Sgt. Vinton gasped.

"What on earth happened?" Klinsinger asked. "How did they get so small?"

"The shrink ray machine," I explained, setting the slice of pizza back into the box. "Somehow they were shrunk by it!"

Doc and Doomsday helped Bugs up out of the sticky pizza toppings. "We thought you were a goner, Bugs!" Doomsday sighed with relief.

"How will we get them back to normal?" Sgt. Vinton asked.

"I don't know," I sighed worriedly.

I then noticed that they were waving their arms at me.

"I think they're trying to tell us something," I noted, and we peered down at them, trying to make out what they were doing.

"We need to tell him that there's a reverse switch on the machine!" Violet said.

"How can we tell them?" Doomsday asked. "They can't hear us. We're too small."

Violet stepped forward and contorted her body to look like the letter 'R.'

"What is she doing?" Sgt. Vinton asked. "Has she got a cramp?"

"No, they're trying to tell us something," I explained, leaning in closer.

"Give me an 'R!'" Violet shouted as she repeated the motion. "I used to be a cheerleader, you see," she explained to the others.

"I hope they understand!" Bugs said.

"It's a cheerleading move," I noted, leaning in even closer.

"Wow," Bugs said in awe. "You know, from this angle, Seymour really is pretty terrifying, huh?"

"Yeah," the others nodded in agreement.

"It's an 'R!'" I realized. "'R.' Regardless?"

Violet then started miming driving a car. Doc, Doomsday and Bugs also mimed driving, occasionally backing up.

"What are they doing now?" Sgt. Vinton asked.

"Maybe the shrink ray shrunk their minds," Klinsinger suggested. "Now they're addled."

"They look like they're driving," I observed.

"Say, didn't this happen on Dr. Shrinker last week?" Klinsinger asked.

"Driving. 'R.'" I thought, then snapped my fingers. "I've got it! They're trying to tell us that there's a reverse on the machine!"

I quickly looked at the shrink ray machine and spotted the switch marked "Shrink / Reverse." "Here, see? We can use this to get them back to normal."

"Do we have to?" Klinsinger asked. "I'd love for them to appear on one of my reports! They could perform a little act or something . . . like a flea circus!"

"Forget it," I said firmly.

I tried to keep Klinsinger at bay as I set up the machine to point toward the floor where I had carefully set everyone. Sgt. Vinton had a call in the outer office and left us as I switched the machine into reverse and hit the red button. There was a hum, a strange flash of light, and Bugs, Doc, Doomsday and Violet felt very strange and disoriented. But they were also back to their normal sizes.

"Incredible!" Klinsinger said, impressed, moving over to examine the machine and flipping the switch back to "Shrink."

"Are you guys okay?" I asked.

"Much better now, thank you," Doc said.

Sgt. Vinton re-entered the C.A.P.E.R. room, announcing, "Well, you'll be happy to know the Brock Boys have just been arrested. This time they'll be able to put them away for a while!"

"How did they catch them?" I asked.

"They were picked up down at the government offices illegally trying to qualify for unemployment," Sgt. Vinton explained. "The heels!"

"I'm really sorry I almost ate you, Bugs," I offered.

"That was a close one!" Bugs sighed.

"Yeah," Violet laughed. "They even yelled 'bananas' to you!"

"Ba . . . bana . . . banaNA . . . NA . . . NA . . . !" Bugs started to convulse and go crazy, racing around the room and causing havoc.

At the end of his rant he happened to hit the red button on the side of the machine. There was a hum, a strange flash of light, and Klinsinger felt very strange and disoriented.

"What's happening?" Bugs asked.

"Not much," we sighed as we looked down at the tiny Klinsinger on the floor.

"I guess we should return him to his normal size," Doomsday suggested.

"Actually, I think it would be very entertaining for him to do his next Klinsinger report this way," Doc smiled as he picked the man up and held him in his palm. "He could do a little act or something for the television audience. Maybe get some of your mouse friends to appear."

"I'll handle this, boys," Sgt. Vinton smiled, and he held out his hand so Doc could set Klinsinger into his palm.

Sgt. Vinton was about to leave when he stopped next to Bugs and sniffed at the air. "Oh! You're wearing my favorite cologne! Good choice!"

After Sgt. Vinton left the room, Bugs looked at us and vowed, "Okay . . . I will never ever wear this scent again!"

THE END


End file.
